Clintasha Drabbles
by Clarity's Illusions
Summary: A series of drabbles and one-shots centering around our favorite couple-that's-not-a-couple! Not all are connected and they are not necessarily in order. Lots of Family!Avengers and Angst!Clintasha. I am taking requests, so tell me what situations you want to see them in! The other Avengers will have a few drabbles, too.
1. Fading

He can feel her fading.

It's been a slow death. It started in Budapest, though neither of them realized it at the time. Looking back, it holds a cruel irony – for him, it was the climax, the start, of a beautiful love. He thought she had finally put away her adamant, "Love is for children."

But it became clear that what he considered a starting place had in reality been the end.

He had always known they would end in tragedy. He had known it from the moment he stared down the length of his arrow and knew he couldn't kill her. He fell for her then, and he's never come back up.

New York. They fight together, backs against each other's, as one. Together, unstoppable, perfectly connected in every way. But something has shifted, and it started a long time before Loki took control of his mind. He's only now realizing that it runs much deeper than that.

He no longer always knows what she's thinking. She doesn't come to him when she can't sleep. In fact, she doesn't come to him at all.

She doesn't say _I love you _anymore. Not even when he says it against her lips, desperate to hear her say them back. She's never lied to him. But just this once he wishes she would.

He wakes up one morning and goes to the roof like he – like _they – _always do, staring out at the skyline of the city to watch the sunrise. For the first time in a lifetime, she doesn't join him. He knows she never will.

It's been a slow fade. Maybe if he'd noticed it sooner, he could have stopped it. Maybe if he'd just stopped, that day in Budapest, and _thought _about it…

Maybe he got too close, and she got scared. Maybe that's why he woke up this morning and she was gone.

In the end, they will always remember Budapest differently.


	2. Clint Breaks Some Glass

"Tasha!" Clint yelled, crashing through the window in a shower of sparkling, deadly shards. It startled her captor for just a moment – but that was enough. She effectively disarmed him with a well-placed roundhouse kick, then caught him in the jaw with a vicious left hook. He dropped like a stone, and she dashed to her partner.

He rolled over on his back with effort, face twisted in a grimace. "I saved the day, huh?"

"Idiot," she said.

A rather large, sticky pool of blood was forming under his back, coating the glass splayed out around him in scarlet. In a heartbeat her expression went from impassive to afraid.

His eyes faded slightly, and without further thought she slapped him. "If you go to sleep I'll kill you," she muttered in Russian.

"But it hurts," he said, sounding remarkably like a five-year-old. But he was _her _five-year-old, and damned if she was going to let him die saving her life.

"Romanoff, we're on our way to you. ETA five minutes." She had never been so glad to hear the smooth, confident voice of their leader.

"I hope you're bringing medical, Captain," she answered into her comm, never taking her eyes off him. "Barton's done something stupid again."  
Tony butted in, his voice drowning out Steve's in her ear. "Tell Feather-Butt not to die before I get there."

She read the concern underneath the sarcasm and decided not to kill him for that statement. "Shut up, Stark, and get up here."

Natasha had only seconds before they arrived, and knowing Clint wouldn't remember later, she leaned down and pressed a kiss on his lips. "Love you, Tasha," he muttered, eyes already slipping closed, and she pretended not to hear.


	3. Phil Is Dead

They asked her to tell him.

Natasha knows she is the most likely choice, and truthfully, she wouldn't have let anyone else break the news. It was going to be hard enough hearing it from her. Out of all of them, though they all loved him, Clint will take it the hardest. They might have lost a friend, but Clint lost so much more.

Steve is defeated, head hanging low. Bruce is silent, because he didn't know the man behind the title, but he still has respect for him. Tony is his usual blustery self, but he is fooling no one. Thor feels guilty, because Loki was responsible.

And Clint…Clint still doesn't know.


	4. Shifting (What Happened In Budapest)

**A companion piece to _Fading _(Chapter One). This is Nat's side of the story.**

The first time he touched her was in Budapest.

Really touched her, not just causally brushed up against her arm or bandaged her wounds. Not just ran his fingers through her hair by "accident" or let his hand linger on hers.

She remembers every time their eyes meet now, what really happened in Budapest…

It's the morning after the mission went south, after they'd both almost ended up dying. Both of them are exhausted as they stumble into the safe house. Clint collapses on the couch with a bottle of water, downing half of it in one giant gulp.

Natasha grabs her own bottle and joins him, swigging it down before turning her attention to his bruises, as he turns his attention to hers.

His fingers linger on a purple mark just showing underneath her tank top. "It's okay," she says. "Gun butt. Nothing worse than I've had before."

His fingers tease up the hem of her shirt, and their warmth lights a new fire in her belly.

They both stop breathing.

His other hand grips the material of her short shorts, sliding up her leg, and she is taken aback by the force of her desire. She's never felt like this. Never.

His grey eyes are dark when she finally meets his gaze.

Without pausing to think about what this could cost them, Natasha slides her hand up his shirt. And then he's pushing her back down on the couch, and she lets him, wanting this so much it _terrifies _her…

When it's over, something has changed between them. And not in a good way.

Back in New York, Natasha crumples up a piece of paper for the hundredth time and throws it in the fireplace. Because words can never, ever be enough to explain why she can't stay. She's compromised now; she let him get too close.

At the edge of the city, she pauses and looks back. Somewhere on top of a tower, she knows Clint is sitting on the roof watching the sun come up.

And for the first time in a lifetime, she won't be there.


	5. Steve: The Truth (Pt 1)

Steve never thought he would ever care for anyone again, after he woke up and everyone he loved was dead. Bucky, Peggy, Howard…all dead.

And after Tony talked him into moving into the newly-renamed Avengers Tower, (he only did it to get the billionaire off his back) he figured they'd all end up killing each other anyway. A bunch of volatile superheroes, all with major issues of one kind or another, all under one roof?

And then he wakes up from a sweat-inducing nightmare one night about a month after moving in. After stumbling to the movie room and collapsing on the couch, he finally falls asleep again.

Only to be awakened minutes later by shouting and Jarvis's cool instructions. Clint staggers into the room, holding Natasha up. "Help her," he begs desperately, to no one in particular, and they both fall into a crumpled pile on the floor.

Steve, nightmare and fatigue forgotten, jumps up and kneels next to them. Clint's face is bloody and bruised, and judging from the angle of his right wrist, it is broken _very _badly. Natasha's bleeding from her side, staining her black suit scarlet. She isn't even conscious, which tells Steve her injuries are very, very bad. Natasha never passes out. Never.

Bruce darts into the room, shirtless and mussed, followed seconds later by Tony. Rocking back on his heels, Steve lets them work, because he has no idea what to do for them.

And he realizes something, as the thought of losing them curls into an icy fist inside his stomach.

He had been wrong. He needs this dysfunctional group of superheroes, because they are his family and he _loves them._


	6. Bruce: Not Without A Fight (Pt 2)

As it turns out, Natasha will be fine. The blood loss made it touch and go for awhile, but she's out of the woods. Some broken ribs and lots of bruises, but nothing she can't easily handle.

It's Clint who is in danger.

Bruce takes off his glasses, automatically cleaning them on the hem of his shirt. Instead of replacing them immediately, he massages his eyes with his other hand, trying to soothe The Other Guy by telling him Clint will be fine. For some reason the other guy has taken a liking to Hawkeye, more so than any of the other Avengers, though Bruce can feel his affection for them.

Truth is, though, he doesn't know for sure that Clint won't die. He can't believe the archer made it to safety, carrying Natasha to boot. Besides the fractured wrist, he's suffering a dangerous concussion; a punctured lung; and four destroyed ribs. His face looks like ground hamburger.

Bruce sighs. It breaks his heart to see them like this. Natasha is carefully, so carefully curled around him, her hand in his good one. They look so peaceful. But Bruce knows better; it's restful sleep for Natasha, but for Clint…it's a blanket of death.

They're going to lose him. He hasn't told any of the others, and especially not Nat…but Clint can't possibly hold on through the night.

A deep, inhuman growl rattles his head, and he blinks away the green he knows must be showing in his eyes. For once he completely agrees with the other guy.

_Not without a fight._


	7. Tony: Not My Style (Pt 3)

"Jarvis," he says quietly, lying on his bed with his hands behind his head.

"Yes, sir?"

"What's the truth about Barton's condition?"

Silence, then Tony could swear he hears sadness in the AI's reply. "Deteriorating rapidly, sir."

"How rapidly, Jarvis?" Tony asks, swallowing the unfamiliar lump in his throat. _Must be a cold. Ugh, I hate colds._

Another telling pause. "He will not last the night."

Tony expected this, but it hurts more than he thinks it should. He sits up slowly, feeling wetness slide down his cheek. Startled, he lifts a hand to his face. How long has it been since Tony Stark last shed tears? He can't remember. That's how long.

"Jarvis, could medical help him more if we moved him to the Helicarrier, or a hospital or something?"

"No, sir. He would only be miserable, and his condition is not reversible." Now Tony _knows _he hears sadness in Jarvis's tones.

"If Clint dies…" he lets his voice trail off as he considers that. Without Clint, Natasha will do what she does best – disappear. Whether from life or just the world, who knows? And without Clint and Natasha, Bruce will drift back into his safer world, in India. Tony has long suspected Bruce only stays because of Nat. He has a soft spot for her, for some reason.

Cap…without a team to lead, there'll be no reason for him to stick around. And Tony himself? Well, he'll go back to spending long nights in the lab, drinking too much, and trying to forget the family he _almost _had.

That thought pushes him off the bed and steers him down the hall, where two assassins keep silent watch over one another. And it suddenly occurs to him how much he'll miss Clint's annoying habit of dropping out of air ducts, sneaking up behind him, and freaking him out by standing on the very edge of the tower roof. He's going to miss the insults (the ones both given and received), and he's going to miss all the stupid, bird-brain stunts…

He slips inside the room and sees Natasha asleep, curled around the only anchor she has. Tony doesn't show feelings; hell, he doesn't _have_ any feelings. That's just not his style.

But he pulls up a chair and joins Natasha in her silent watch, just like Bruce watches from across the room and Steve watches from the foot of the bed. Like Pepper watches, as she sits on his lap and curls into his chest for comfort he can't give.

And underneath the heavy tension and sadness, Clint's chest keeps rising and falling, against all odds and fighting a battle he can't possibly win.

Tony allows himself to drift off into his comfortable world of numbers and science, because that's a world he knows. He runs vitals and possible treatments by Jarvis, only to meet with the same grim answer every time.

But Tony won't give up - that's not his style.


	8. Natasha: I Was Wrong (Pt 4)

Love is for children.

The words play relentlessly inside her head, beating against the walls of her carefully-constructed façade.

The others all think she's asleep. But how can she sleep while the other half of her heart is dying?

Love might be for children. But what she and Clint had, surpassed anything she'd ever felt. If what she felt for him wasn't love, then love didn't exist.

If Clint dies he takes everything good about her with him.

They have always had a mental bond that is uncanny in strength. They know what each other is thinking as if they could read the other's mind. That bond has kept them alive more than once.

She closes her hand more tightly around his, and with all of her heart, she forms the thought and holds it. _Come back to me, Clint. I was wrong. _

_I love you._


	9. Clint: I Hear Her (Pt 5)

The darkness wants his soul. It's been sucking at him for so long, edged with red-hot tints of pain. The agony licks at his consciousness, but it's receded. That's bad; it means he's losing his fight. But he's trying. He's trying so hard, because for the first time in his life he has something to lose.

He hears Tasha crying. She didn't cry in Koshin, when he fell four stories, broke six ribs and punctured his left lung. He'd been throwing up blood by the gallon. They had been sure he'd die then. But she hadn't cried.

She is crying now.


	10. Clint: Silence (Pt 6)

He's drifting now. He feels nothing. No pain, no anxiety, the darkness only a distant memory. He's waiting for something. Death, he thinks, but it doesn't matter.

And then something shatters the peaceful quiet.

_I…love…you._

He gravitates towards the sound, because something deep inside him responds to it. It does something to him, makes him want to shake off the lethargy. He listens with his whole being, waiting.

_Come back to me, _it whispers, and it's more powerful than whatever's waiting for him on the other side of the nothing. _Come back to me, Clint. I was wrong. I love you._

_ I love you._

She loves him.

The pain opens up like a red-hot chasm, bringing with it a painful light. _This is what happens if you fight, _a mocking voice informed him. _It will be hard, too hard._

And for a moment he glances back into the peaceful void.

But her voice is stronger.

_I love you, Clint. Come back. _

And Clint makes his choice.


	11. Natasha: All At Once (Pt 7)

Everyone has fallen asleep; faint moonlight spills through a crack in the curtains. Natasha alone is awake, keeping her silent vigil. Waiting.

Over the past few hours, Jarvis has reported that his vitals are dropping slowly. Natasha knows this, had expected this, but hope is still cruelly present in her heart.

She shifts a little, adjusting her grip on his hand, when the impossible happens.

He stirs, moaning, and falls silent again. As she watches, frozen, his eyes flicker open suddenly.

Jarvis starts speaking at an impossible rate, but she tunes him out. The rest of the team is jerking awake, each of them talking over each other, but she has eyes only for him.

Tears of pain force their way past scrunched eyelids, his face is twisted as he fights to control the reaction of agony and shock, but she can only feel overwhelming relief.

He's alive. They can deal with everything – and anything – else.


	12. Hero

**I'm not finished with the serial "Clint Is Alive!" yet. Just so you know. :D**

* * *

Rain.

It falls, neverending, from a blackened sky. It cries on the fresh mound of earth, the stark headstone, and the small group of people standing around the grave.

He doesn't know how he'll carry on. Phil was the best part of his life. The man had saved him, mentored him, and gave him a new reason to live. Now he's gone.

Head bowed, rain beating a new hole in his heart, Clint says goodbye to a hero.

His hero.


	13. Struggle (Pt 8)

"One more rep, Birdbrain. C'mon, you can do it."

Sweat stings Clint's eyes as he struggles to lift the weights. "It's too hard," he pants, trying to ignore the pain and the exhaustion and Tony's taunts.

"It's _not _too hard," Tony snapped. "Lift it, Clint. One more time."

With tremendous effort he locks his elbows, shoving the bar up to the required length.

"Atta boy," Tony says, and Clint snaps.

"Shut up!" he yells, hating the slight slur to his voice. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" With strength he didn't know he had, he hurls the weight forward. It crashes to the floor with a resounding bang.

Because all their platitudes can't change the fact that he's different. He's alive, but he's not Clint anymore.

Feeling death's hands close around his soul did that to him.


	14. Soon

Clint accepted a long time ago that his life would most likely end violently, and sooner rather than later. It was a well-known fact that he and Natasha never had an extraction plan, and truth be told, she took even more risks than he did.

He never thought, even once, that he would be standing in front of Bruce listening to things like _time _and _spreading too quickly _and _it will be soon _and _I'm sorry._


End file.
